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“...and the Sands of the Desert Wash Over the Words” by Pascal Farful (part 1 of 2)
26th February 2024 • The Voice of Dog • Rob MacWolf and guests
00:00:00 00:28:38

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They seek the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. In the quiet of the evening, a whisper is heard. And the Sands of the Desert Wash over the Words.

Today’s story is the first of two parts of “...and the Sands of the Desert Wash Over the Words” by Pascal Farful, who turned lemurs dancing in spandex to eurodisco into an art form. Well, technically an art collage, but who’s counting?  This story was published in the anthology “In the Light of the Dawn” by the Furry Historical Fiction Society.

Read for you by Rob MacWolf — werewolf hitchhiker.

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https://thevoice.dog/episode/-and-the-sands-of-the-desert-wash-over-the-words-by-pascal-farful-part-1-of-2

Transcripts

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You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.

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This is Rob MacWolf, your fellow traveler,

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and Today’s story is the first of two parts of “...

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“...and the Sands of the Desert Wash Over the Words”

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by Pascal Farful, who turned lemurs dancing in spandex to eurodisco

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into an art form.

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Well, technically an art collage, but who’s counting?

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This story was published in the anthology

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“In the Light of the Dawn”

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by Furry Historical Fiction Society.

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Please enjoy “And the Sands of the Desert

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Wash Over the Words”

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by Pascal Farful, Part 1 of 2 The racks of scrolls in Seleucia’s Academy library stretched as far as Agathocles could see.

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It surprised him greatly that you could fill this much parchment with philosophy,

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mathematics and governance.

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It wasn’t the complete sum of all Seleucid knowledge;

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Religious documents were generally stored in the shrines and the temples that concerned

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them, dealings of which were best left to the priests.

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But within this small room was great knowledge.

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If one dared to seek it.

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It was Agathocles of Halicarnassus’s job

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to do just that. This quest for knowledge was not grand.

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On a given day, the mouse would arrive directly from the basilica in a himation and with his helmet under his arm.

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His research was performed on the express appointment of the governor himself.

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It was a job. Which was important as

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Agathocles had just lost his last one.

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Barely a week ago, he was heir to the governorship of Seleucia. However,

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when the time came, he was replaced with

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one deemed more suitable. The only consolation being that his replacement saw fit to keep him as an assistant.

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Zeuxis never asked complicated questions.

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Just ones arduous and varied enough that Agathocles had to make the long walk through the agora to the academy and back

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every time he asked for something.

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One such day, the mouse arrived, dull-eyed and bitter,

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and entered the room full of scrolls.

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He searched and scanned the labels on them, until he found what he was looking for.

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He pulled out a long scroll and placed it on a nearby table,

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eased it from its case, then unrolled it.

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He studied it for a moment, made a few notes on some spare parchment,

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then rolled it back up and

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placed it back in its case.

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It was as the mouse went to return the scroll that his eye was drawn to something placed shoddily at the back of the cabinet.

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Parts of the library were restricted and Agathocles was only allowed to access those by grace of the governor.

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He was not to pursue personal interests or rummage on Zeuxis’ time,

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but curiosity drew the better of him. He looked

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to his left and right to ensure he wasn’t being watched,

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then reached towards the back wall and

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pulled out a very old piece of parchment.

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Judging by how rough and battered it was,

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it seemed nobody

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had tried to protect it over the years.

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He placed it down on the table

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and studied it. A map.

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His eyes widened as he noticed a

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patch. Like something had been covered up. Agathocles was definitely in violation of the governor’s orders,

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if not also in violation of the academy’s too.

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But he had to know. He fingered at the patch, until it lifted.

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He glanced underneath.

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He tensed up. Could it be?

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No… But if it was…

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He placed the patch back down and carefully folded up the parchment.

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He placed it back at the very rear of the cabinet,

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then put the other scroll in front of it. -

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“Ah, Agathocles! You return again.”

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The silver fox smiled.

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Gods, Agathocles hated looking at him. Zeuxis bore most of the appreciable qualities of a king-to-be. Handsome. Muscular.

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Headstrong to the point of arrogance.

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“Indeed, your honour.”

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The mouse said reluctantly.

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Faking the loyalty was hard, and Agathocles motivation to try was running low.

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“The farmland you enquired

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about. When we go ahead with it, it’ll give a large surplus during summer

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and by winter it’s still going to be sufficient to feed the entire population.

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Even the poorest.”

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The fox closed his eyes and scoffed.

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“Thank you, Agathocles.

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Following your research, I feel that

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this farmland is excess to the requirements of this city.”

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The mouse recoiled.

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“Sir! With all due respect,

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as it stands we barely have enough food to feed everyone during winter.

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That surplus would put us in good stead to survive any attack from the east too.”

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“I don’t intend to start wars, Agathocles.”

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Zeuxis grunted. “Perhaps you do?”

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The mouse sighed and looked down at his feet.

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“No… no I don’t, my lord.”

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“Good. At ease. I will have the cancellation orders for you to deliver tomorrow. Along with the plans for the statue.” “S

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-statue?” The canine’s eyes burned into Agathocles’ figure.

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“Yes, a statue.” He said curtly.

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“Something that shows the lineage of Hellenic greatness.

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Something to remind the Parthians that Seleucia will never fall.”

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It would have been more polite if Zeuxis had just spat on him.

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Cheaper too. “The Parthians?

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You said you didn’t intend to start wars.”

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The silver fox waved his paw.

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“They make noise, but their words have no consequence.”

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Zeuxis grinned. “And I said, ‘At

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Ease.’” Agathocles grunted and stared at his feet.

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“I see that I was a poor teacher.” He whispered to himself.

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“What?” The fox called. “If you are such a gifted leader for Seleucia, tell me,

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why are you stood there while I am sat here?”

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He grunted. Agathocles made no comment.

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He cleared his throat and apologised, then lowered his head and

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walked out of the basilica and

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back onto the streets.

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He walked back through the agora,

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past the odeon and into the public baths.

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While Zexuis’s words still rang in his ears, Agathocles’s mind kept racing back to that map.

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What it would mean if its promise were true. -

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Inside the baths, the mouse was quick

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to find the person he was looking for.

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“Kleomenes! There you are.” Agathocles walked up to a rat.

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Dark fur, strong, powerful build.

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The mouse’s eyes were prone to wandering when in Kleomenes’s presence. Particularly at the baths.

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“Finally, you grace me with your presence.

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That governor does like to waste your time, doesn’t he?”

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The rat snorted.

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“I think he finds pleasure in it.”

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Agathocles muttered,

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easing out of his robe and hanging it up. Kleomenes scoffed,

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guiding the mouse into the hot water with him

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“Men have odd pleasures, don’t they?”

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“He took my honour!

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The Basilica was to be mine!” Agathocles rumbled.

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“Until Antiochus changed his will on his deathbed.

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And all that after I taught his boneheaded offspring

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everything that he knows!

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Not that he seems to have remembered a grain of it.”

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The mouse sat down at last on the edge of the pool.

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“Ought that not satisfy a man like him?” Kleomenes stared deep into Agathocles’s eyes.

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“But not a man like you or I.

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Of that I’m sure.” The mouse didn’t object.

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Nor complain. Nor refute.

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“I found something while

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doing one of Zeuxis’ jobs.” Agathocles said after submerging himself in the water.

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“Something I don’t think I was supposed to find.”

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“Is there forbidden information?”

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The rat asked, sitting up on the side of the pool.

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“I was of the impression from people like yourself

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that all information was of value for all people?

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That to be educated is the way of civilization.”

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“There are those who have mastered the arts of philosophy and diction,

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who guard information they see as

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being of dangerous value

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to those not skilled enough to handle it.” Agathocles explained. Kleomenes snorted and swatted the air with his hand.

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“Producing hard men is an intense enough task as it is without

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attempting to master

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oratory and prose too.”

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The mouse laughed.

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“The walls of the baths tell me that you are naturally gifted in that skill.

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Naturally gifted enough that you might not need to devote all your time to it?”

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“Go on then.” The rat snorted and sat back with a grin.

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“This forbidden knowledge,

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entrust it upon a soldier of fortune and see it be wasted.”

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The mouse gulped.

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“I know where The Hanging Gardens are.” -

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“Zeuxis, I have news from Susa.”

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The silver fox looked up at one of his servants.

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“Yes, what is it?” “The alliance we offered has been rejected, Sir.”

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The crocodile explained.

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“And there are concerns that their desires for allegiance instead fall with Armenia.”

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Zeuxis scoffed. “We are strong.

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We can weather any storm. With or without the

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Parthian king.” - “It’ll be about four day’s travel from here.”

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Kleomenes rumbled.

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“If your theory is right.”

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“I understand that it is quite the undertaking,”

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Agathocles said slowly.

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He’d had to explain this multiple times for the rat to believe him.

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“Though consider the honour it shall bring if we were the ones to find it.” The rat scoffed. “We are not exactly men to whom honour is ascribed.

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I hope your intent is not to be reinherited by the Seleucid king?”

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Agathocles’s gaze sharpened.

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“Finding the Gardens of Nebuchadnezzar will be more than enough to-”

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“The king doesn’t want the Gardens, Agathocles, he wants…”

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The rat gulped. “Children.”

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The pair fell quiet. The idle hubbub of chatter felt distant.

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Even the water seemed to hush up. The mouse

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looked into the water, then around the baths.

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He stood at last, letting his fur drip upon the floor.

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“Then I shall forgo the love of the king.”

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He said with defeat.

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“For the gods have made it clear they deem another fate for me.”

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The rat scoffed, but soon felt troubled.

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“If people know of the garden’s location,

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then why have they never been exploited before?”

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Kleomenes frowned.

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“If the tales are true,

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then they are a place of inexhaustible bounty!

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Limitless harvests!

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Enough food for all the world.

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Zeuxis would have all the room for statues he wanted,

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the Parthians would have no cause to seize fertile riverbanks or rich pastures,

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and the poor need not starve either for war or for vanity!” Agathocles shrugged.

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“I know not. But I do know

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that the gods have seen it fit that I learn of those secrets.”

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“At first it was for the love of the king,

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and now it’s for the duty of the gods?” Kleomenes scoffed.

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“When did a man such as you gain divine motivation?

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Perhaps it is impious, but I do remember fondly the man who was driven by his more carnal interests.”

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The mouse smiled.

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“Who is to say that I no longer am?”

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“May it never be me.”

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the rat chuckled.

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“Why, if you are the one chosen by the Gods to find The Gardens,

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you would have no need to worry about affairs of state.

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Could you not then ignore

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distractions such as

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Zeuxis, the Parthians

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and the possibility of famine?

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For if the Gods mean it to be you,

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then who is a simple man like I to question the will of the Gods?” -

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The pair dried off,

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then got dressed, Agathocles in his white himation robe, Kleomenes’s in a black chiton tunic.

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“I have to drop something off at the gymnasium.” The rat smiled. “You are

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always welcome to join me.”

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Agathocles chuckled.

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“Always a very tempting offer.” He said, leading the other out of the building.

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“But first I need to retrieve the map from the Academy.”

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“In that case, I will meet you at sundown,

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near the shrine of Aphrodite Cepoïs.

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I have a few prayers to make there.”

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Agathocles agreed

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and departed for the academy.

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Without the grace of the governor, he needed to be far more sneaky and cunning than before.

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Children of Sparta were raised and encouraged to thieve and steal,

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as to be more suitable as soldiers when older.

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Children of Halicarnassus were given no such incentive.

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Agathocles entered the building and kept an eye open for Castor, the librarian. The stoat was sorting through some incoming scrolls in the corner of the building.

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With that distraction, the mouse was able to enter the restricted area again.

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He kept to the walls, avoiding sight lines.

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If he couldn’t see the stoat, the stoat couldn’t see him…

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right? Carefully, yet without looking outwardly mischievous,

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he moved back across towards the corner of the room where the map was hidden.

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Quietly he eased the scrolls out of the rack and

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down onto the table behind him.

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One by one. Carefully...

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There it was. Then he just had to- “Agathocles.”

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The mouse jumped.

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“Oh, hello Castor.” That was it. He was done for.

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“Do you have any spare parchment?”

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The stoat asked. Agathocles blinked.

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“Oh… of course.” The mouse reached for a section of the unused material near the side of the table.

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He prayed to Zeus that Castor wouldn’t notice that secret scrap in the cabinet and

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simply ask for that

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instead. Mercifully,

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he handed a section of the unused parchment to Castor. He could have sworn the stoat glanced into the cabinet. But,

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the stoat thanked him and turned away, walking back across the room.

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Perhaps he didn’t see it. The mouse didn’t think twice. He picked up the hidden parchment and

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put it in his robe, before replacing the other scrolls.

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With his heart in his throat,

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Agathocles left the academy with the map and walked to the shrine. - It was dark by the time the mouse reached the shrine of Aphrodite Cepoïs.

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Entering it, he’d find Kleomenes deep in prayer.

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“It is done.” The mouse said at a whisper.

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The rat jolted, looked around,

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then stood. “Magnificent.”

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He said. “I apologise for interrupting your prayers.”

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Agathocles said. “You have not.” Kleomenes said. He approached Agathocles and stared into his eyes.

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“My prayer had just been answered.”

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For a moment, the stare held.

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Then the rat kissed the mouse firmly

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upon the lips, the latter being taken by surprise, before relaxing into it.

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Slipping at last from the mouse’s muzzle, Kleomenes smiled.

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“I request one final night with you

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before we depart.”

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Agathocles blinked.

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“You’re sure?” “If we fail and we don’t make it home, I want my last night to have been with

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you.” “Very well. At first dawn, we shall voyage out.”

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“Should we not hire some horses?”

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Kleomenes suggested. “We will

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make it far quicker on horseback

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and it will be easier to carry our supplies.

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supplies.” Agathocles shook his head. “It would

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require us to explain our mission.

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And lead a trail back to Zeuxis.

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Two men alone in the desert are untraceable.” -

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That morning, the last day dawned. The pair slept little,

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their bed took an ordeal and the previous day at the baths was suitably squandered.

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The echoes of footsteps rung throughout Babylon.

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If nobody cared to hear them,

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or those ears were deaf to act,

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it would never be known.

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The pair pooled their resources:

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the food they had to spare, the water, the clothing, and in Kleomenes’ case, the weaponry. With a hoplon strapped to the rat’s arm, sword in the other hand and

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their helmets upon their

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heads, the pair departed at daybreak.

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Agothocoles carried the maps

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and the supplies, while Kleomenes

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was to use his wits and arms to try and keep the pair out of trouble. They departed through the western exit of the stone wall. This bore a road due south, one used by armies, traders and diplomats alike. It was the route to the city of Dumatha and the Arabian wilderness.

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“We follow this road

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down past the first river to the south.

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When the path heads east,

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we go west.” Agathocles said.

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“From there, we’re on uncharted territory. We’ll have to cross the second river through the water itself, but there’s a mark on the map that

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suggests it’s shallow enough to wade across.”

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The rat nodded and the pair made their way along the road out of Seleucia. - By the evening, the city was out of sight.

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The rising and falling of the land obscured the city from their gaze.

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Before them, the stretching road, the river and bridge in the distance. And then… the great beyond.

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Trade caravans passed them frequently.

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From Susa to the east and Damatha to the south.

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Diplomats from Parthia and Armenia too,

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though far more of them than normal.

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Even some of those Romans they’d heard so much about.

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Old farms sprang up to the left and the right.

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These used to sell extra food to travellers.

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Now their owners barely had enough to feed themselves.

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The hope of the new farms shone bright in their eyes. Agathocles hadn’t the heart to tell them that Zeuxis didn’t care.

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“Did you tell Zeuxis that you will be gone for a few days?”

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Kleomenes asked, offhand.

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“No. He wouldn’t have let me go,

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or would have gone himself.

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Demanded to see the map, taken credit for it.”

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Agathocles grunted.

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“Such is the joy of stolen knowledge.”

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The rat smirked.

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The mouse stayed perfectly silent,

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staring at the scrap of parchment in his hand.

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“It’s not stolen.” Agathocles said at last.

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Kleomenes grinned ear to ear. “Ah yes,

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I should have expected a vagueness from a politician.”

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“It was behind a series of scrolls in the library.”

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“In the publicly accessible section of the library?” “...

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“...In the restricted section of the library.”

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Kleomenes snorted. “So it is stolen.”

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The mouse bit his lip.

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“Perhaps it is.” The rat laughed heartily and the pair kept on walking. -

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By sunset, they had come across the bridge.

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A small wooden structure with supports

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down into the river to hold it up.

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The waning sunlight and rising moonlight reflected in the water below,

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as people made their way back into the city to sleep or continued along that path

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far into the distance.

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“Isn’t this beautiful?”

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Agathocles whispered. “Huh?”

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“The water in the lake.

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The moonlight on the plains.

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All of it.” The mouse continued.

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The rat paused and stared.

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“I suppose so.” He grunted. The mouse rolled his eyes as the two stepped onto the bridge.

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“Of course. A son of Achilles doesn’t care to appreciate the vista of the world, now does he?”

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“I can.” Kleomenes protested.

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“Perhaps I’m just not as easy to please?”

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“Perhaps.” The bridge creaked underfoot.

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As if the gods themselves wished to test whether they truly wanted this that badly.

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The image of the bridge breaking flashed into Agathocles’s mind.

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The fall. Into the water.

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The bridge held firm.

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They crossed. “There’s a temple over there.” Kleomenes said, pointing to the distance.

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“We can sleep inside.”

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The mouse nodded and the pair continued up the road.

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The sun dropped below the horizon and the moon was left alone in the heavens above. -

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Before long, the two came upon the small temple.

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The ruin of the small temple.

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The roof was gone and only a handful of pillars were left.

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The ones in the four corners and a few on one side remained intact. The rest lay broken and crumbling. “Gods… who

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would do such a thing?” The rat grumbled.

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“There are people who do not believe in the Gods of Mount Olympus.

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Olympus.” Agathocles grunted. “Perhaps they see it as an affront to their land.” Kleomenes’s mouth opened to rebuke, but he fell dumbfounded,

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looking over the ruins. Agathocles climbed the steps and stood between the pillars and under where the roof once

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was. “Perhaps we should sleep here.

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There’s no roof to fall upon us.

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The power of the gods may still wrap itself around these pillars

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and it will keep us above the desert floor.” The rat grunted and nodded,

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joining him up on the marble.

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They lay down upon their blankets, keeping their supplies huddled between them for safety.

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The night passed slowly.

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The sound of horses and camels on the cobbled road

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rattled around their heads.

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The desert winds

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goaded them to approach and suffer the consequences.

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Restless, Agathocles rolled over onto his chest.

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As he did so, he noticed a phrase carved into the marble.

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"The great among men reap plentiful harvest, yet thousands are left with crumbs.

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crumbs." The mouse blinked.

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It was still there when he looked again.

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He sighed and turned away.

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He figured it was just graffiti

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and attempted to forget

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it. - Daybreak. The elevation had kept the sand off of their fur and their belongings lay as they’d left them,

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bundled up between each other.

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“We should move quickly.”

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Agathocles said. “It won’t be long before Zeuxis discovers I betrayed him and will come seeking us.”

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“We can outrun any army.”

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Kleomenes assured him.

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“But not a horseman.” The rat grunted and nodded. “Your

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argument is fair. Let us walk.”

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They gathered their belongings and left the temple,

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continuing down the road into the sunrise.

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“You’ll regret wearing a himation before long, my friend.” Kleomenes smirked. “It protects me from the sand and wind a lot more than your chiton will.” The mouse grinned. “But you’ll struggle to run in it for sure.”

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“You anticipate needing to run?”

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The rat snorted. “You did live a pretty life in that palace, didn’t you?

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Out here in the plains, anything can come for anyone.

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Some have said that quick footedness

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is even more valuable than strength.”

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When Agathocles gave Kleomenes a puzzled look,

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the rat laughed loudly

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and slapped Agathocles on the back with his large hand.

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“I tried that “scholarly research” you mentioned.

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I’m beginning to see its appeal!”

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The mouse answered the rat by pointing into the distance.

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“There is the turn to the east.

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Now, we must head west.”

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The wind swirled.

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A dare. To enter the abyss.

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The pair stared into the plains. The uncharted lands. They stood silent in revelry at what they were about to do. The foolishness of it all. Agathocles took the first step off of the path onto the short grass and hard, dry land.

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The earth did not swallow him up.

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The winds wafted back, satisfied to let them trespass.

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“Onward.” Agathocles said at last. “And with haste.

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They could come for us at any time.” -

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Into the plains they walked.

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Their progress was slower here.

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The ground was hard and unforgiving against their feet.

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The short grass snagged at their sandals and rubbed dry on their ankles,

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yet refused to cushion their stride.

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The bumps and undulations made a steady march difficult.

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There was no rhythm.

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Only persistence.

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As they moved further and further into the wasteland, the grassland became more and more sandy.

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The signs of civilization dried up like the very earth beneath them.

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As they crested one rise, Kleomenes stopped to turn back and look at where they had come from,

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only to see no road at all.

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In the far distance, something caught the rat’s eye.

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Was it smoke? Or was it just the heat?

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The rat was wise to the mirage and he disregarded what his eyes foretold.

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“We are alone.” He uttered.

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He turned back to look at the mouse.

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“We are alone.” Agathocles repeated with a grin.

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“Perhaps at last, you and I can have what we’ve been looking

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for.” Kleomenes sighed, then gave a weak smile. “Perhaps.” The mouse closed the distance and kissed the rat again.

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“But we must keep moving, lest we become disoriented.”

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The rat nodded and the pair resumed their strides. Deep into the beyond. The dunes. The sand.

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The dry grass. Alone under the all-seeing eye of the sun.

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“Zeuxis seeks you.”

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The pair jumped. Kleomenes drew his sword.

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Before them, a bedouin.

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A wolf, wrapped in robes, holding a shield and a scimitar, astride a camel.

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All three stood their ground.

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“But I do not seek him.”

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Agathocles said firmly.

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“If you wish to claim a bounty, then let the sands bare our blood.”

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“I do not.” The wolf replied.

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“Why would I do my coloniser’s bidding?”

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The body language of the two rodents softened, but the rat remained defensive.

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“So why do you come?”

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The wolf laughed. “Must

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I explain everything in such detail?” He snorted. “Seleucia burns.

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His remaining men seek you.

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Whatever you seek, find it quickly and hope it may grant you asylum.”

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The two rodents stood

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firm. “If Seleucia is burning, where will they take me?”

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The bedouin laughed again.

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“Surely you don’t think they’d take you?”

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He snorted. “Your death is their prize, Agathocles.”

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He sheathed his scimitar.

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“But it is not my prize. No,

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my prize is the joy of watching Alexander’s empire fall.”

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He smirked. “Good luck.”

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He grabbed the reins of his camel and departed at great speed

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into the desert mist. The two rats stood alone as all evidence of the bedouin’s presence was reduced to the memory

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and the ringing of his words.

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“Do you believe him?” Kleomenes asked. “I would believe anything that suggested Zeuxis was a fool. Come, we must continue.” Agathocles said continuing on up

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the road, at a run.

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The rat followed.

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This was the first of two parts of “Story Title” by Author Name,

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read for you by READER, with CALLSIGN.

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Tune in next time to find out how

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[characters resolve the cliffhanger or other teaser].

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As always, you can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,

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or find the show wherever you get your podcasts.

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Thank you for listening

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to The Voice of Dog.

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